


Due Southwood

by nomave



Category: Torchwood, due South
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-07
Updated: 2012-09-07
Packaged: 2017-11-13 18:04:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomave/pseuds/nomave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would happen if handsome Mountie Benton Fraser were to meet equally attractive Captain Jack Harkness? This story aims to provide the answer. Assumes Due South and Torchwood exist in the same timeframe, somewhere in the second season of both shows. <br/>Fraser and Ray are summoned to Cardiff to help divest the Torchwood team of a certain problem that is outside of Torchwood's normal range of interests.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Due Southwood

“I must say, it was very good of Her Majesty’s government to allow you to come along on this trip, Ray.” Constable Benton Fraser dutifully stowed the tray table into the back of the airline seat in front of him as the fasten seat belt sign came on.  
“Well, America is meant to have a ‘special relationship’ with England, Fraser.” Detective Ray Vecchio brushed some stray crumbs from his Armani trousers, and glanced at his red coated companion, who appeared to be tidying the contents of the seat pocket. “Besides, all this talk of aliens is just ridiculous. I can’t wait to prove to these stuck up English guys exactly how wrong they are.”  
“You really need to keep an open mind about these things, Ray.”  
Ray snorted, “They’re talking about little green men, Fraser. If you recall our last encounter with alien hunters, that turned out to be a complete waste of time. Although this trip at least won’t involve that little runt Ian MacDonald.” Ray frowned at the moving map display, “So wherabouts in England is this Cardiff place anyway?”  
“Cardiff isn’t in England, Ray. It’s in Wales, which is one of the constituent countries of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. Technically, Wales is a principality and was first incorporated into….”  
“It’s all the same place ro me,” Ray interupted.  
“I think a lot of British people would find that attitude offensive, Ray. How would you feel if someone said to you that there was no difference between the United States and Canada?”  
“I’d think they were an idiot.”  
Fraser raised his eyebrows.  
“Okay, point taken,” Ray looked out the window, “Hey, London’s bigger than I thought.”  
“Yes, Greater London is home to over 7 million people. But we won’t be there long. Once we land we need to catch the Heathrow Express to Paddington railway station, where we will change trains for one that will take us to Cardiff, which is a much smaller city.”  
“Great, seven hours on a plane, and then I get to spend another two hours on a train before I can take a shower,” Ray grumbled.  
“Well, the railway itself is quite historically significant. It was built by Isambard Kingdom Brunel, who used a broad guage track…”  
“Fraser!”  
“Yes, Ray?”  
“I don’t care. At the moment I just want to land without us crashing into wilderness.”  
“That scenario is extremely unlikely, Ray.”  
Ray rolled his eyes and pointedly picked up the inflight magazine.

Ray Vecchio dragged his suitcase bodily from the First Great Western train, cursing at the difference in height between the train door and the platform, “Haven’t they ever heard of baggage cars?”  
Fraser settled his pack on his shoulders, wondering, as he had many times before, why Ray saw fit to bring so much luggage with him when travelling. “This way, Ray,” he said, and started to make his way along the platform.  
Once they were out on the main concourse of the station, they stopped and looked around.  
“Okay, where’s our ride?” Ray asked, “We were told we were going to be met at the station.”  
“I’m sure someone is here, Ray. The train was, after all, slightly late.”  
At that moment, a dark haired woman appeared at Fraser’s elbow, having approached them from behind, where she’d been waiting unobtrusively in the doorway to the W.H. Smith newsagent.  
“You must be Fraser and Vecchio,” she said.  
“That’s right ma’am. I am Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and this is Detective Raymond Vecchio of the Chicago Police.”  
“Gwen Cooper,” she answered shortly, “Come on, you stand out far too much in that uniform. Don’t the Mounties teach you how to be inconspicuous?”  
“I’m afraid that was not part of our briefing for this trip Miss Cooper. I can, however, attempt to blend in if that would be preferable.”  
Gwen started at Fraser for a long moment, trying to work out if he was serious, “I think it’s a bit late for that. Let’s go, car’s outside.” She jerked her head for the two men to follow her.  
“Her accent’s weird,” Ray whispered to Fraser as they hurried after her.  
“She’s Welsh, Ray,” Fraser replied by way of an explanation, “Our accents probably sound strange to her as well.”  
They followed Gwen to a black four wheel drive parked outside the station.  
“You don’t believe in travelling light, do you?” Gwen commented as Ray pushed his suitcase into the back of the vehicle.  
“I believe in being prepared,” Ray replied, causing Fraser to briefly wonder what Ray had managed to smuggle into the country.  
“I wonder if you could answer a question ma’am,” Fraser said, as they climbed into the car, “I understand from our briefing notes that Torchwood is a hightly secret organisation that investigates suspected extra-terrestrial occurences. What I don’t understand is why you requested my presence.”  
“Firstly, don’t call me ma’am. I’m not the Queen. Just call me Gwen. Secondly, everything will be explained when we get back to our headquarters. Jack will answer all your questions.”  
“Jack?” Fraser queried.  
“Jack Harkness. He’s my boss.”  
“Oh.” Fraser lapsed into silence.  
“What’s that stupid looking building?” Ray asked.  
“Stupid looking? What’s so stupid about it? That’s Millenium Stadium!”  
“What’s with the arch thing?”  
Gwen hesitated, then admitted, “I don’t know. It’s architectural or something.” She pulled the car up, “Anyway, we’re here.”

“Wow.” Ray looked in amazement around the Torchwood base. The technology in the place was like nothing he had ever seen.  
“Wait here,” Gwen started to walk towards a back room. “Don’t touch anything,” she called over her shoulder.  
“Just look at this stuff, Fraser,” Ray said, “Do you think some of it is actually alien?”  
“I thought you were sceptical of there being any ‘little green men’, Ray – I believe that was the phrase you used ?”  
“Well, yeah, but look at this place!”  
“I’m afraid I cannnot enlighten you as to the provenance of these artefacts,” Fraser said, peering closely at a display case of what appeared to be laser guided weapons of some description, “but I do agree that they do not resemble anything we have previously encountered.”  
“Sorry to keep you,” a voice said behind them.  
The Mountie and the detective turned to see a tall good looking man approach, shrugging on some sort of military jacket. Gwen was following behind.  
“You’re American!” Ray commented in surprise.  
“Could be,” the newcomer answered a little absently, his eyes transfixed by the broad shouldered, dark haired figure in the scarlet tunic, “And you’re Canadian,” he said smoothly, coming to a halt in front of Fraser and looking the Mountie up and down in a manner that made Ray’s eyebrows climb almost to the top of his head, and Fraser feel suddenly flustered in a way he normally only did when faced with a flirtatious female.  
“Ummm, yes. Yes, I am indeed Canadian. Constable Fraser, RCMP, and this is Ray Chicago, of the Vecchio Police….I mean…” Fraser ground to a panicked halt. Ray could almost hear him thinking ‘oh dear’. Gwen tried unsuccessfully to hide her snigger.  
The man in the military jacket took hold of Fraser’s hand and shook it a littly too firmly, and for a little too long, “Captain Jack Harkness,” he introduced himself, “And I’m very pleased to meet you.”   
Jack locked eyes with Fraser, who had no idea how to respond. He was saved from having to do so by the entry of another man, who stopped to watch the little scene, and gave the man who claimed to be a Captain a look that Ray couldn’t quite place at the time, but later decided was jealousy.  
“Jack…” the newcomer said, a in a slightly disapproving tone.  
Jack tore his eyes away from Fraser, “Ah, Ianto. Is everything ready?”   
“Yes, the, er, prisoner is secure and you can take the visitors through.”  
“Good.”  
“Can someone explain what exactly is going on?” Ray spoke up a little petulantly.  
“Of course,” Jack was suddenly all business, “Two weeks ago we started to get reports of apparitions appearing to police officers in the area. We suspected extra terrestrial activity, but now we’re not so sure.”  
“What form did this apparition take?” Fraser asked.   
“It was a Mountie,” Jack replied, “an elderly one. He kept giving unsolicited, but rather garbled, advice to the Cardiff police.”  
“Oh dear,” Fraser commented, already suspecting what he was going to find when taken to see the ‘prisoner’, “Umm, Ray, why don’t you remain here with Gwen, while I see to this?”  
“I really think I should come with you,” Ray didn’t like the idea of letting Fraser loose on his own with the decidedly odd Torchwood people, particularly Jack, who seemed very interested in Fraser in a way Ray wasn’t sure the Mountie could deal with.  
“No, no, Ray, I’m sure I can handle this on my own.” Fraser followed Jack, who continued his story.  
“We were able to use some of our technology to capture this apparition in a sort of force field, and we brought him back here. We’ve ruled out extra-terrestrial activity – well, extra-terrestrial activity of the kind we usually deal with, but we weren’t sure what to do with him. Once we got a name, and found out he was dead, we traced you as the next of kin.”  
“Thank you. I had wondered what had happened to him lately.”  
“So he’s appeared to you as well?”  
“Yes, it’s a little hard to explain, and I don’t believe his spectre has ever appeared to a stranger before, only to people with whom he was closely connected in life. It’s most odd.”  
“He probably got caught in the time rift somehow and ended up here.”  
“Time rift?” Fraser queried.  
“That’s also a little difficult to explain – rather like your father’s ghost.”  
“So you asked me here to take him back?”  
“We think once he’s in your presence he’ll re-attach himself to you and will follow you back to Chicago.”  
Fraser was feeling distinctly unsettled by the idea of his dead father popping around the world giving people advice, “Thank you,” he said, for wont of anything better to say.  
“My pleasure, I wouldn’t have missed meeting you for anything.”  
Fraser pulled absently at the collar of his uniform, which suddenly felt very tight.  
Jack opened the door of a room, “Don’t be alarmed if he looks a bit green, it’s just the force field.”  
Fraser stepped into the small room and was confronted by the image of his father, sitting comfortably in an office chair, with his feet on a table. He did indeed have a slightly green glow.  
“I’ll leave you two alone for a couple of minutes.” Jack closed the door behind him.  
“Hello son,” Bob Fraser said cheerfully.  
“Dad, what are you doing here?” Fraser asked in the exasperated tone he seemed to increasingly employ when dealing with his dead father.  
“Always wanted to travel, son. I’d never been to Britain. Thought I’d take a look.”  
“You can’t just go around randomly giving advice to foreign police forces.”  
“Just offering a service. Did you know that the British police don’t carry guns?”  
“Yes. Yes, I did as a matter of fact. Can we get back to the topic of you being here, or indeed anywhere at all?”  
“Lovely people these Welsh,” Bob Fraser seemed to be deliberately ignoring Fraser’s questions, “Very friendly.”  
“Dad….”  
“Though it’s always nice to get home after a trip. Sleep in one’s own bed.”  
“You don’t have a bed. You’re dead.”  
“One has to sleep somewhere.”  
“I’m going to get you out of here.” Fraser rapped on the door, and saw Jack and Ianto outside, “Um, what happens when you release the force field?”  
“Hopefully now you’re here, your presence wil lbe strong enough to draw him back to you.”  
“Good,” Fraser nodded, “Can we proceed on that basis?”  
Jack and Ianto followed hiim back into the office, and Ianto operated some controls on the wall. The green luminsence that had surrounded the older mountie started to dissipate.  
“Ah, that’s better,” Bob Fraser said, “Can I go now?”  
“Yes. Yes, Dad, you can go now.”  
“See you back in Yankland son.” With that statement, Bob Fraser simply disappeared.  
Fraser turned to the other two men, “I’d like to thank you for your, erm, discretion in this matter,” he said.  
“Believe me, it was no problem at all,” Jack replied, giving Fraser another rather meaningful look, earning a glare from Ianto.  
“Well, I’d better make arrangements to go back to Chicago.”  
“You’re more than welcome to stay a few days…” Jack began.  
Ianto interupted, “I’ve booked you hotel rooms for this evening, and train tickets back to London for tomorrow. I couldn’t get you on a flight sooner than Friday, but you’ll be able to stay in London until then at our expense.”  
“Spoil sport,” Jack muttered.

“Well, that was a great trip, Fraser.” Ray reclined his airline seat, “And it was nice of them to upgrade us to business class. I don’t think I’ll want to fly any other way in future.”  
“There is a lot more leg room,” Fraser acknowledged.  
“You still haven’t told me what went on back in Cardiff,” Ray commented.  
“It was….classified.”  
“I bet it was,” Ray chuckled, “Anyway, the couple of days break in London were well worth the trip.”  
“Ray, you spent most of the time complaining about the food and that you had to travel by public transport.”  
“Yeah, well, that was obligatory.”  
“And you said you were bored at the National Portrait Gallery.”  
“All those kings and queens. I’m from America, we don’t need royalty.”  
“I cannot agree with you, Ray. One could argue that you revere some of your past presidents, or major political families, in much the same manner as people revere monarchies.”  
Ray decided he couldn’t be bothered arguing any more. “Whatever you say Benny. Right now, I’m going to try and get some sleep.” Ray pulled the complimentary mask down over his eyes and rolled onto his side.  
Fraser sighed and picked up his book.  
“I agree with the yank, son, “ a familiar voice said from nearby. Fraser looked across the aisle and saw his father sitting in what had been an empty seat, “It was a good trip.”  
“Dad…..” but the ghost was gone before Fraser could reply.

THE END


End file.
